Keeping Faith
by Tamuril Telrunye
Summary: Vampires, the scourge of the night and the thing of nightmares. But not all monsters started out as something entirely inhuman. OC-centric, with a twinge of Alucard and Integra. Just a little introduction of my character to the realm of Hellsing- Most definitely AU.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Notes:_** On top because they are important *Grins. Either way, this is something my friend has dubbed a 'Writers Block ex-lax fic' because it really is. I have such a short attention span that its really no wonder I would wander around (Mentally) while trying to write the next chapter of my other fic. I've honestly been a huge Hellsing fan for years, but never really posted anything. I should also mention that this was written some time ago, and has been floating around for some time now. Unfinished like everything else, but I daren't let it rot and fester.

**Summary: **Vampires, the scourge of the night and the thing of nightmares. But not all monsters started out as something entirely inhuman. OC-centric, with a twinge of Alucard and Integra. Just a little introduction of my character to the realm of Hellsing- Most definitely AU.

**Rating: T **For gore/blood, ghoul and/or Zombie funliness.

**Disclaimer: **I do not, nor have I ever owned Hellsing. But god do I ever wish? Sorry, just had the mental image of me on a beach with Young-Walter or something.

* * *

Keeping Faith

By: Tamuril A.K.A Bamvivirie

**_Chapter 1:_****_ Howl_**

* * *

A rosary.

Silver metal, and black beads.

That was the first thing she remembered.

Darkness.

Deep, sheathing nothingness. The void, a pit below even hell itself. water seeping down, eroding stone and earth. Trailing down pale frigged skin, chilling enough to pierce the soul. A wrongness so deep that her heart twisted with the thought of it. Her. Yes, she was female. She knew this. How did she know this? How could she not know, she was herself wasn't she? Wasn't she? Who was she?

**_'Herself.'_** Said a dark voice in the back of her mind.

That was all fine and great, but WHO was she?

**_'HERSELF.'_**No more, and no less than herself.**_ 'Why need she ask?'_**

To know. To know herself.

How can one not know themselves? That did not make sense.

Neither did not knowing her name.

_Her Name? Why did she need one? She was more than a name, more than a simple label. She was boundless, endless, beyond that of any simple mortal "name"._

Then the cold unfeeling metal pressed against her wrists, as grey harsh stone filled her vision. Only contrasted by the one thing that they had no ability to take away from her, the moonlight glinted off of its blessed surface almost unmarred by the events that had transpired.

Events? Better not to ask, or the pain would come back. Pain?

A sharp stab in her mind, and she hissed as if to ward it off.

Hissed... A simple and easy as breathing, throat producing an unnaturally loud and cruel sound that reverberated off of the walls around her. The sound of a caged tiger ready to pounce.

She looked up, moving stiff joints in an attempt to ease them. Bars marred her vision, not a few feet from her, but not within reach. Or at least, not with these shackles. A stone wall beyond them, a moonlit window illuminating the area.

She slumped back against the wall, easing the strain off of her poor abuse arms, and looked down. Cotton, a dreary grey color that was indistinguishable from the stone around it. It had been red once, this piece of fabric she wore. A dress, yes. It had been a red dress, and she had worn this dress for a particular occasion. Dark hair fell down past her shoulders and down to her waist, matted and dingy. Uncomfortable shoes clad her feet, pinching at the toe.

Why hadn't she lost those? She couldn't remember.

A sound reverberated through the building, an echo within an echo. A maddened howl, shaking the structure around her, as she closed her eyes against the pain and sorrow in the sound. After a moment the stopped, but for minuets afterward she kept her eyes closed.

Then the scream of metal on metal, and she opened her eyes to see the door to her cell open.

She didn't question. Perhaps it had always been unlocked and she just hadn't noticed. A sigh left her lips and she looked at her shackles, wishing for them to open as easily. A noise filled her ears, and with a _*chink*_ they had opened. To strange to dismiss as easily.

**_'Don't question.'_**

She stood shaking her head.

**_'Don't question, just do.'_**

Do what?

**_ 'GO!'_**

She stood, unsteady legs leaden from days of disuse and awkward arrangement. She took a and immediately regretted her action, as she pitched forward. She grasped the cell door for support, before kicking off the horrible toe pinching monstrosity's that she'd worn for far too long.

A heartbeat echoed through her ears at the thought, as her mind took her back to a sunlight day when she and her best friend had skipped school to run around in the bright spring morning, a rare contentment filled her heart. A memory half lost in the darkness of this place, and she was once more in the cell staring at the depressing grey stone around her.

She sighed, taking a moment to pull what comfort she could from this half memory. Storing it in her heart for a time when she would need it. She grasped the small silver symbol and stepped forward; oddly reluctant to leave the one place she had become familiar with.

A dark hallway, and even darker steps leading up and way.

A slurping wet sound met her ears as she crept forward, a crunching accompanying it from time to time. The horrible wet noise filling her ears and mind with dread. It drowned out her footsteps as she made her way forward, wishing for it to stop but knowing that the moment it did the thing making said noise would be free to notice her.

Her socked feet felt the cold stone beneath them, step after step taking her closer to this dreadful thing. Fear, and horror eating away at her once calm facade.

And then a wet tackiness, as her foot stepped into a thick congealed liquid on the stair, only a few steps from the top. Another step, and her other foot met the same slippery condition as its partner. Her eyes looked toward the top of the stairs, on level with the ground above.

She stopped dead, wide eyes meeting wide eyes.

A man, sprawled backwards at the top of the stairs, eyes glazed over blue in death. Throat gaping, so deeply torn that his head was almost severed. Her knees gave way beneath her, as she turned away vomiting. Only now realizing what the tacky wetness and smell meant. A flash of memory struck her then, blond hair, blue eyes and a smiling face.

Irony and pungent, the smell of blood and death mixed with her own vomit making her heave again. Old death, decay as sickly sweet and pungent as pain fluttered a crossed her senses oddly tantalizing, her mind trying to deny even as it began to accept. Meanwhile the crunching wet slick noise continued, undisturbed by her inner turmoil.

Another crunch, closer this time, then the body in front of her moved. Sliding slowly upward, jowls nattering at her like a cruel puppet mimicry of the person it had once been, and she froze in fear, mind racing, childish mantra running over and over in her head as she begged this not to be. _If she didn't see it, it wasn't real. If she didn't look up, she couldn't see it._

Like the boggy-man in her closet when she was a child, waiting to pull her away and devour her soul. The half memory of prayers flitted through her mind, one sticking out in particular for its propriety in her situation.

_"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me."_

A movement. A shudder, and she could deny the truth no longer. Eyes moving slowly, she looked up.

* * *

End Note: And that is chapter one. Stay tuned for chapter two.


	2. Chapter 2: Hound

**A/N: **So Chapter two for you, shorter but another step in the story.

**Rating: T **For gore/blood, ghoul and/or Zombie funliness.

**Disclaimer: **I do not, nor have I ever owned Hellsing. But god do I ever wish? No stealing, or I might have to pull a voodoo move on you. Loves- Me

* * *

**Keeping Faith**

**Chapter 2: ****_Hound_**

**_By: Tamuril Telrunye AKA. Bamvivirie_**

* * *

Red.

Red as blood, red as fire in the pits of hell. Sorrowful, painful, hateful eyes. Four sets, eight eyes. One face.

A hell hound, a creature from the fiery pits. Fanged jaws biting and tearing, crunching away as though it were a rare treat. Flesh and bone alike disappeared into its insatiable jaws, body diminishing to nothing before disbelieving eyes. _She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, terror seizing her muscle and bone. _The body diminished to nothing but an arm, elbow, wrist then knuckles descending down The Hounds unnatural maw with a slurp.

And with a jolt she fled, legs carrying her up and past the Hound before she realized what she was doing. Feet skidding she managed to make it to the other side of the room before sliding out of control, feet skidding in the thick bloody pools covering the floor.

Now by and by, the human body on average does not carry as much blood as portrayed in the movies, six or so quarts sounds like a lot, and indeed when one sees thick bloody trails down a horror movies hallway one is inspired to think that there is more than in reality.

Even so, to get as much blood on the ground as she was seeing now, how many body's had there been? How many people had this demon killed?

She couldn't, no**WOULDNT **think on that as her grey-once-black-now-red dress soaked in the messy liquid. Horrible sticky floorboards met her fingers as she scrambled to get up, and away failing as her feet refused to obey her.

And then, a plodding of feet. Four paws, claws clicking. A snuffling and then, a slick tongue sliding up the side of her face, an echoing whine as their eyes connected.

A demon, a devourer of flesh and soul alike. Death on four paws, tormenter, war hound, taker of souls. Evil in its purest form, lessons drummed into her head from the earliest memory, melting away instantly.

Another lick and she sat up slowly. An eager whine, and suddenly the terrifying demon of legend wasn't as fearful as she imagined.

**_'No, not to her, never to her. She was the master, and he was her follower.' _**The dark voice in the back of her head spoke, a gentle nudge and she slowly lurched to her feet again leaning heavily on the Hound. She was tired, weak, and famished.

A hunger curled in the pit of her stomach, a painful ebb in her middle as she eased forward. Hound supporting her, footsteps echoed throughout the stone building met only by the occasional drip of water, the mournful wind whistling through the seemingly empty building.

_Blood... Was everywhere. _Bodies were less common, but still present occasional. Mangled, and torn beyond recognition, these poor souls were not given the privileged of death before being torn apart.

Her walking continued, cold darkened hallways stretching ever onward. Lonely, desolate, devoid of life in even its simplest form. Minuets seemed like long dark hours and she grasped her rosary for support. Her mind prayed for someone to be with her, but her steps felt oddly desolate. Save for the Hounds.

A sound startled her from inner contemplation, heavy breathing muffled by stone and wood. A door not far from her swung open slowly.

A man, eyes wide and frightened stared back at her. He held a gun in his right hand, raising it towards her shakily. He paused, and the Hound growled menacingly.

She didn't move, didn't breath.

And he fired.

And then she saw red, screams tearing through the air.


	3. Chapter 3: Faith

**A/N: **Sorry for delay in posting, got distracted by the local Zombie's vs. Humans game and totally forgot. Going to go ahead and post two chapters, cause this one is short.

**Rating: T **For gore/blood, ghoul and/or Zombie funliness.

**Disclaimer: **I do not, nor have I ever owned Hellsing. But I do own Faith and her Hound.

* * *

**Keeping Faith**

**Chapter three: ****_Faith_**

**_By: Tamuril Telrunye_**

* * *

She woke again, the familiar slurp and crunch of the Hounds feeding the only sound that met her ears as she sat up. Mangled corpse the only thing left of the gun totting man.

She hated it. This feeling.

This unknowing.

Why was she here, what had happened to this place, and why was everybody either dead or gone?

Only the wind could know, for it was the only thing left in this place. Aside from herself, and of course The Hound. No, not The Hound. It didn't seem right to call it that, like it was just some random dog. It was _hers,_ her only companion in this crazed place.

It was _Her Hound_, and she was its.

'**_No, his.'_**

She stood up, inspecting the bullet hole in her right sleeve. The man must have had terrible aim, because it hadn't hit her at all. She took a few unsteady steps forward, and thanked god for Her Hound. Although it seemed odd, awkward really.

Without him, she would have been long dead. A few steps later, and her Hound whined before leaving the rest of the corpse to the worms, and plodding on after her. She felt stronger now, blood flowing properly now that she'd engaged in moment beyond the chains and cell.

A door stood at the end of the next corridor, and she paused. A faint shift in the air, and the door swung forward and back again on creaking hinges.

The door itself was not unusual in the least, made of dull steel-like metal it had a sheen to it that was only marred by the bloody hand print near the handle. Not the hand print of someone trying to keep something out, but rather the hand print of someone trying to get out. The dull red streak down the center of the hallway spoke volumes.

That was another thing. Though Her Hound devoured the dead, she could not bring herself to believe that he had eaten the body that claimed this shower of blood. Indeed, she had the feeling that despite all else, her Hound had not left the room she'd found him in.

Which begged the question. Where exactly had those body's gone?

She reached the doorway, staring at the hand print on the door. Freezing as she noticed the glinting reflection in the door, red eyes.

Eyes that didn't belong to her Hound. She whirled, surprised to find nothing behind her save her Hound snuffling distractedly at the floor, scenting out something unseen to her.

Her heart thumped painfully in her chest, as she gripped the stained fabric above it. To many times this night, far too many times since waking had she been frightened out of her wits, and now another dreadful feeling.

Before her mind grasped for another, searching only to find nothing. But now, now it screamed in fear for the sudden presence that she did not want.

Her stomach churned, and she shoved the door open, stumbling out of it Hound following suit as she all but slammed the door shut. It wasn't so overwhelming now, but whatever it had been still ate at the end of her senses, unthinking hunger.

She sighed, before wiping her forehead and turning towards the moon. She grasped her rosary again, wishing for strength enough to carry her through. The bright circle in the sky shone true, full and beautiful.

And then, for the first time her small fingers found strange abscesses in the back of her silver rosary. Letters, a word or name engraved on the back of it and turning it over she stared.

** F**

** A**

** I**

** T**

** H**

Faith? Her faith? Or her mind said, perhaps it was her name. Her mind told her that it was often used as a name for female children.

_Faith._ She was named Faith, if not before she was so now.

She turned back to the moon and sighed.

_But really, for all her troubles it was such a beautiful night._


	4. Chapter 4: Forest

**A/N: **Second chapter posted today. Both are fairly short, so I thought it would be fair.

**Rating: T **For gore/blood, ghoul and/or Zombie funliness.

**Disclaimer: **I do not, nor have I ever owned Hellsing. But god do I ever wish? Sorry, just had the mental image of me on a beach with Young-Walter or something.

* * *

**Keeping Faith**

**Chapter Four: ****_Forest_**

**_By: Tamuril Telrunye A.K.A Bamvivirie_**

* * *

Trees.

Dark, large and foreboding. An indescribable path between that would take her to and unknown destination. Undaunted Faith moved forward, socked feet feeling gummy on the forest floor. She paused once more, tearing off her troublesome socks and hurling them into the darkness. No one would mourn there loss, decaying in a forest of shadows.

Fine dirt and moss tickling her toes, as she moved onwards distant sounds echoing through the darkened wood. Her Hound followed at her heels, tromping off now and again to sniff something or paw at the ground. Almost as though he really were nothing but a normal dog.

But she couldn't forget her first sight of her companion. Wouldn't forget it. One could forgive, but never forget her mind whispered.

Before too long she was well and truly lost along the path that led through the forest, and a strange forest it seemed to be. Save for the moss and rare bush, the forest itself seemed to have almost no ground cover. The trees were strange as well; almost all of them were oak or maple. Not an Evergreen in the bunch. Which also seemed to ring odd in her mind, she felt that she was use to something far different when it came to forests.

Greener and sharper, and more erratic.

A shuffling in the distance made her pause, a drawn out moan and another shuffle following it. In the distance, two eyes glowing red. Like yet unlike those of her Hound, they gleamed dully in the forest before her.

Despite the darkness, Faith could make out the features of the thing coming towards her, and despite the fear she might have felt had she encountered this creature before. She could feel none for it now.

No, instead she felt pity.

Pity for this half creature that knew only hunger.

It could never know love, or hate again. For it was beyond all emotion, nestled in the deep caress of death, it existed only as the puppet of another. Another that she sensed was not far off, and growing closer; curious as to what creature had caught the attention of its puppets.

A growl, and her Hound was creeping towards the unsuspecting ghouls. He fed on the body's of the dead, whether or not it was moving made no difference to him. A leap, a snap and the ghoul was down severed head clamped tightly in her Hounds strong jaws.

But as quickly as a snake her Hound was back at her side, edging her away from the slowly approaching presence. A clear warning in her mind, as she stumbled and skittered forward in the darkness. Unsure at first, but knowing that she could not come in contact with it, whatever it happened to be.

**_'Better to be safe than sorry' _**the dark voice said in the back of her mind.

At first Faith only walked forward, but then she began jogging, then running. Dread in the pit of her stomach, adrenaline in her veins pushing her forward. Her Hound followed loyally, keeping up easily with her pace.

Her legs grew tired, and soon she was short of breath.

A rustle in the bushes, a shuffle not far off and she knew that she couldn't possibly outrun the master of this forest. Whoever or whatever resided in this place, was not willing to let her go. And while she was sure it was not strong, it had the numbers to keep her.

And she did not wish to be 'Kept', she was a person. Not a pet.

**_'Oh?' _**drawled the dark voice in the back of her head,**_ 'Are you so sure of that?'_**

Dread once more took up residence in her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around a nearby tree. Well, if that truly was the way of it then she would choose her master. She wouldn't be caged like some delinquent animal, unable to decide for herself.

To have someone hold the reigns in her life? Could she really settle for that, settle for someone else being in control? Faith didn't know.

Her hand found the surprisingly soft fur of Her Hound, and she sighed.

"I don't suppose that you could explain this whole master, pet thing?"

Her Hound looked at her before licking her hand, but no answer was forthcoming. And so they trudged onwards, dark forest around them. Ahead Faith could make out a clearing, moonlight cutting through so brightly that her eyes could not make out anything beyond the swath of light.

She sensed something, something in that clearing that made her stop. Her Hound, paid no heed trotting off and away.

Something waited in that place- that place beyond the moonlight. A creature of shadow, and blood.


	5. Chapter 5: Nosferatu

**A/N:** Apologies for the delay once more, I am almost tot he end of my pre-written chapters I'm sad to say.

**Rating: T **For gore/blood, ghoul and/or Zombie funliness.

**Disclaimer: **I do not, nor have I ever owned Hellsing. But god do I ever wish?

* * *

**Keeping Faith**

**Chapter Five: ****_Nosferatu_**

**_By: Tamuril Telrunye A.K.A Bamvivirie_**

* * *

The moon was bright between the tree limbs as Alucard looked up, bright disk cutting a savage swath through the darkness that existed all around. She was a warrior spirit, one who believed that anything worth having was worth fighting for.

They were much alike, he and the moon. Both were immortal, eternal in their way. Unchanging, yet ever chaotic. Silent watchers of the night, always striving towards that which they could never obtain.

The moon strove ever forward to grasp the light, as Alucard did to grasp... Something else. What was it the he was seeking? He often asked himself this question, and he had the answer. But he would not openly admit it, to himself or another.

Integra.

The moon was truly more comparable to her, then it was to him.

His Master was much more like the moon then she would ever know, strong and silent emotions hidden behind a blinding brilliance. She held back the darkness of the world through self-sacrifice, pride and sheer strength of will.

In many ways, she reminded him of how he had once been, long before his immortality. Save one aspect, her heart.

Her heart was truly pure, it may become clouded by anger, but it would never truly be blinded by hate.

The Undead King sighed deeply, noting for the first time an approaching presence. It whispered to him, like a tantalizing scent on the breeze. It had power, not like his own but not unlike that of a vampire. The creature he was meant to kill? No doubt, although it did seem oddly different then the presence he'd been following since his deployment.

Integra would have to be informed of this; it could be another vampire pair. Or rather another pair of faux vampires trying to make their mark on eternity. Foolish children, playing with fire when they should know better. Forever was not a thing one played at, it had a tendency to make ones existence painfully long, or excruciatingly short.

The wind kicked up, and the creature walked into the clearing, stepping into the moonlight and revealing itself for the world to see.

It took the form of a human female, small to the eye; it did not seem very threatening. But Alucard was no fool. Fools did not live very long, or perhaps it was that fools lived far longer than others? A musing for another time perhaps.

She could not be more than five feet tall, dark golden brown hair matted and hanging freely about her shoulders. She wore a deep red dress- almost black; similar in appearance to a nun's habit- formal but almost casual in cut, her pale skin was unmarred by tan and she possessed deep violet eyes.

Violet was an unusual color for any creature, save those who were fay touched, or magic marked. This was not a normal vampire. It also reeked of recent kill, and the dress it wore was stained near through with blood. Another might not pick up the red stained deep into the dark fabric in this light, but the blood called to him. Like an unclaimed penny lying on the ground.

She seemed surprised by him in some way, like he was not what she expected. Her hand reached upwards grasping a small piece of metal that he had previously dismissed. Its kind did not easily take to his, blessed silver burning his eyes with reflected moonlight. A crucifix, tied into a rosary of obsidian beads.

This was definitely unusual.

Where he would burn, she another creature of the darkness seemed to take comfort.

A most unusual Draculina this one.

How unfortunate that she should ally herself so poorly. He lifted his Jackal finger resting on the trigger.

* * *

She stepped into the bright moonlight, Hound slipping out of sight among the dark trees, she stilled her heart before looking up to face the monster. Her hand creeping up to grasp her rosary, half prayer ready as her lips moved to form words that never left the sanctuary of her mouth.

She raised her eyes in time to catch a flick of movement, before realizing that a large gun (Larger then she'd ever seen) was pressed against her forehead. Held by the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

Black hair stuck out from under a red hat, orange glasses covering his glowing cat slitted red eyes.

"Poor little draculina, it seems your luck has run out," he said before grinning manically, his voice was shadows and darkness, the guttural growl before the predators lunge, "But truly, you should have chosen your allies better. This one seems intent on proclaiming his existence to the world, and we just can't have that."

He moved to pull the trigger, but didn't get the chance.

Her Hound, ever a part of the shadows had saved her once again, lunging at the man and biting his arm clean off.

* * *

A Hell hound? The unusual one smiled at the beast, almost fondly. He had dealt with hell hounds for well over five hundred years, but never had he grown fond of them. Or perhaps he should rephrase that. He had become about as fond of them as a Master would of well-behaved hounds, but he had never forgotten their true nature- they were beasts in their own right. Subservient to him only because of his strength and will.

The Hound carried his arm over to her, like a cat would bring a mouse to its master.

And then something truly unexpected happened.

The hound wagged it tail like any silly dog would, and wound itself around her like a common pet.

Unusual Draculina indeed.

* * *

She rolled her eyes at her Hounds antics, and felt that this was not a rare occurrence between them... Him bringing her THINGS, not arms. Speaking of arms, she grasped the limb and attempted to pull it from her Hounds jaws, tugging in vain. Because her Hound in turn thought as any dog would at that point in time, and decided it was a good time for a decent game of tug o war.

Dragging her smaller self around like a rag doll in the process.

"I'm sorry," She said feeling absurd, apologizing to a man who was clearly NOT human felt strange. Particularly when she was also in the process, of trying to fetch his arm from her 'Faithful' Hell Hound. But then again, there was that whole part about him trying to shoot her...

She looked back at her Hound again, and stopped short. The limb, which had previously been clamped in its jaws, was... Melting? No, it was dripping away oozing like congealed blood. Her fingers were slick with the stuff...

A dark chuckle made her look back toward the strange man, cold biting metal pressing itself into her forehead once more. Two guns. Where in the **WORLD** did he **KEEP** the damn things? She hadn't seen this one, black as sin, sleek, and massive as the other had been.

She lifted her hand, and pointed.

"I maintain that I am unassociated. And the thing yer looking for? He's that-a-way."

She could almost feel his brain stop at her words. Clearly he hadn't been expecting more. A strange look caught in his eyes, before he smirked, and dropped the arm that was holding the gun.

"If you insist, darkling." His eyes narrowed, "But if I am forced to come back here and deal with you, you WILL regret it."

* * *

A/N: So, next chapter is the last pre-written chapter. Do you think its worth continuing? I dunno, my beta Orginoid say's its good. But she loves everything I write... Bah, I can't tell.


	6. Chapter 6: Knife

**A/N**: Sorry for the delay. I have been having an interesting time with getting my work for class done. Two essays due each Monday, followed by reading an entire book over the weekend, and two supplemental readings that are at least ten pages long, and then, then guess what? We have not one, but TWO major projects due at the end of the quarter. One is a fifteen, to seventeen page transcript of an interview, and the other is a seven to ten page essay on one subject of historical context that has something to do with the interview. We also have to write a bibliography on THAT, with plenty of citation that is at least THREE pages long.

Ever think the world is out to get you? Fffffffffff, when I signed up for this class they did not mention that it was going to include Graduate Level work. I'm not a Graduate. Most of the class hover around Sophomore, Junior status. Several are still Freshmen. I am thinking perhaps I should speak privately to the teachers… Cause they are obviously not taking into consideration the amount of time we have to study between… Everything else. .

Sorry, rant over.

**Rating: T **For gore/blood, ghoul and/or Zombie funliness.

**Disclaimer: **I do not, nor have I ever owned Hellsing. But god do I ever wish? Sorry, just had the mental image of me on a beach with Young-Walter or something.

* * *

**Keeping Faith**

**Chapter Six: ****_Knife_**

**_By: Tamuril Telrunye AKA Bamvivirie_**

* * *

Her feet carried her further into the forest, away from the telltale pulse of _Power and Blood_ that was the man in red, as well as the acrid stink of _Old Death_ that permeated the building she'd emerged from. The same stench of_ Old Death _that seemed to seep off of the occasional ghoul that got close enough to become a victim of her Hound. The same stench that wafted past her from the direction of the thing-that-she-was-avoiding.

Her feet moved quietly over the spongy moss that dominated the ground cover in this portion of the forest with a sigh, and the change in ground cover was accompanied by a moist musty scent. Something that overpowered any older scents, drowning out all but save the scents that her nose seemed to deem _The-Most-Important. _Such as those given off by the _Other-Two_, or _Her Hound_, or better yet blood. **_Old-blood _**her mind knew without providing any details,**_ 'Old blood, but still worth investigating'._**

**_ 'Old blood could lead to old kills, but it could also lead to wounded prey. Wounded prey was the best for young hunters, wounded prey was less likely to fight back. More likely to give up, and die.'_**

It really was a most enticing scent, although she couldn't explain why. Her Hound frolicked through the trees around her, sniffing at things as she moved to follow the old trail **_'Only by a few hours' _**another part of her said.

A glint in the moonlit stopped her short, silver sheen flaring deceptively._ 'What was it?' _Faith couldn't help but ponder as she looked at it, angling her head in the hopes of gaining a better view through the trees dread gnawing at her stomach. She **KNEW** this sort of thing, but how? A few more steps, a few more trees and her nose alerted her to the fact that she had reached the end of the _Old-blood_ trail.

And with good reason, for in front of her tip sunk deep within dark tree bark sat a large silver hunting knife. The edge glinted red with dried blood, wooden handle encompassed with a singular dried bloody hand print.

The knife itself was easily as long as her forearm, double-edged and wickedly curved, gleaming promises that Faith was not entirely sure she wanted to partake in. And yet...

And yet she would be a fool to leave a weapon behind, particularly since she was in the way of needing one, and badly. More than once tonight she knew, without her Hound she would have become little more than a lovely red stain. If that.

No, she couldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Reaching up, she grasped the handle and with a tug freed the long blade with an ease that she shouldn't have expected, but did. It felt oddly light in her hands, and as she moved it through the air testing its weight she felt it acceptable for her purposes... Whatever that meant. Yes, most suitable.

Movement out of the darkness behind her triggered something in her mind, as suddenly a creature lurched, Her Hound hot on its heels. She spun striking it in the throat, severing tendon, muscle and bone alike in one slash. This was _Not Normal._ Not normal for a human perhaps, but she sensed it would become normal for her.

The corpse collapsed in on itself as she looked at it, becoming little more than a pool of blood before she looked at Her Hound. It seemed to grin at her, a twisted self-satisfied grin that stretched its face in an unnaturally human way.

'**_Well done.'_**

She stared once more at her Hound, and she couldn't help but feel as though he were absurdly proud of her for some reason. As though letting this creature past its guard was intentional.

**_'And it was.'_** something told her.

A silence seemed to blanket the forest then, and her Hound moved to her side leaning heavily on her as her breath seemed to catch in her chest. There was something…

_Old death, hot and intimidating putrid breath making her choke as she gasped for air around it. It was going to smother her, encompass her, devour her. It was a great hunger coupled with an insidious mind, and it wanted her…_

She jolted looking around as she realized that she was still whole, herself and very much breathing. She had been seeing things, she had been hallucinating. An assertion that did not lend her the calm she'd been hoping for. Maybe she was mad, like a rabid dog, fit only to be put down. Maybe that man had been sent here to kill her.

**_ 'NO'_**said the Hound, leaning on her with enough force to make her stagger. **_'Not mad, not bad. Different.'_**

Then what she'd seen, the feelings the suffocating, putrid thing that she'd seen, was the thing she'd been trying to get away from all this time? A silence greeted that thought, and she looked around suddenly aware of the unnatural silence. A warning seemed prevalent, and The Hound seemed to waiver for a moment before drawing close, and leaning on my side heavily, as if urging me to move.

She sniffed the air, looking around for a moment.

_Old Death, putrid stench permeating the air around it, twisting all it touched into poison and ash…_

She gagged before turning to bolt, Hound at her heels. Down passed the desiccated corpse, passed the clearing, back in the direction she come the sense of the _Old Death _never dissipating. A movement and suddenly she was laid out flat, fighting for breath as she scramble for an explanation as to how she come to be this way.

A cold clipped chuckle filled the air, and she looked up.

* * *

E/N: Kinda short, but it is progress...


	7. Chapter 7: Fate

**_Author's Notes:_** Augh. Finals. Here have a present. I'll see what I can add after I've slept off the last day of class.

**Summary: **Vampires, the scourge of the night and the thing of nightmares. But not all monsters started out as something entirely inhuman. OC-centric, with a twinge of Alucard and Integra. Just a little introduction of my character to the realm of Hellsing. Most definitely AU.

**Rating: T **For gore/blood, ghoul and/or Zombie funliness.

**Disclaimer: **I do not, nor have I ever owned Hellsing. But god do I ever wish? Sorry, just had the mental image of me on a beach with Young-Walter or something.

**Warnings:** No beta, fly by night editing. But its here right?

* * *

**_Keeping Faith _**

**_By: Tamuril Telrunye AKA Bamvivirie_**

**Chapter Seven****_: Fate_**

* * *

Her gaze was caught, as her mind stalled.

Red, red eyes offset by a pale complexion and sandy blond hair. Sickly thin, but tall. Not as tall as _Power and Blood, _but still far taller than she. A faint breeze stirred the air, _Old Death _dancing scintillatingly upon the wind sickly sweet and overbearing. Power stirring around her as she fought to stand, to move- to run from this place and the wrongness that this man-no creature seemed seep upon the world.

There was something _Not right _about him. Something that frightened her- frightened her in a way that _Power and Blood_ did not. _Power and Blood,_ did not radiate the ill will and insatiable hunger that this creature did. _Power and Blood _did not frighten her nearly as much as he should, for even with her lack of memory there was not a lack of comprehension. He was much more than she; he was strength, and blood and quick seductive death in the night. A death you longed for, a death that drew you in with your consent.

But this creature.

This _Old Death _was both more and less than that. _Old Death, hot and intimidating- putrid breath making her choke as she gasped for air around it. It was going to smother her, encompass her, devour her. It was a great hunger coupled with an insidious mind, and it wanted her. Lacking the power of the other, he still maintained a hold over her. Pinning her down, strapping her to his will, twisting her until she wanted to break._

And she couldn't breathe, she truly couldn't breath- which didn't matter because she didn't _need _to breathe her mind said to her, but it didn't lessen the panic that it brought with it. She couldn't move, she couldn't run she couldn't even properly fight. She couldn't fight him because he was a part of her. A part of the darkness that danced at the edge of her, making her _other_ and not entirely a part of the things that surrounded her.

With mixed horror and incomprehension, Faith felt her body move forwarded without her consent. Drawn to the great devouring hunger that this creature was, _Old Death, It was going to smother her, encompass her, devour her…_

Faith felt something pull away in disgust as the creature before her laughed; a dark horrible rasp, air escaping from a long dead corpse. And her hound, her hound that had stayed with her throughout the night, her last hope of escape- was nowhere to be seen. She could not see him, could not feel him.

Why had he gone, had he left her to her fate, was this to be it then? Devoured body and soul by this creature for her own inability to escape?

"Well, well, well." _Old Death _said, lips pulling back in a garish grin as inhuman eyes gleamed, hand extending- rough cracked skin grating down her cheek to her chin. "This game of cat and mouse has gone on long enough, don't you think pet?"

Faith said nothing. She could SAY nothing, for her mouth would not move, as his voice filled her mind with broken glass thoughts not her own. And he knew. He knew and enjoyed it. Enjoyed her spirit fighting against his indomitable will even as they both knew she could not break free.

_Not yet. _Something whispered in the back of her mind not her hound this time, but something else entirely. A thought that he couldn't hear, made with certainty that she at the moment lacked. A moment passed as he continued to stroke her face, before he tensed. The lines of his body screamed aggression, hunger and something else…

Fear.

She could smell it on him, thick acrid stench filling the air even as he seemed to look into the distance. Seeing what Faith did not know. But whatever it might have been, it did not alleviate his stance or the rapidly tightening grip he had on her shoulder. He let out a feral growl, like a rapid animal catching scent of his rival, before snorting.

"Now I think lovely, it is time for us to adjourn to a more welcoming bough. It would be unwise to greet our guest improperly I think." He said, drawing her to him before heaving her bodily over his shoulder. She was nothing more than a ragdoll to him, small and limp in his grasp even as she fought to overpower the hold over her mind.

A cloud passed over the moon as he moved, rail thin shoulder digging into her sensitive stomach with each step taken. The horror was overwhelmed by disgust. But beneath that, beneath that horror and disgust she hid from him a small bit of hope. Hope wrapped white knuckled around the hilt of her knife, dangling useless for the moment.

Hope, on the slim silvered edge…

* * *

He took them back to the building from before, but around to set of doors she did not know. Doubled and large, he opened them with ease strutting into the over sized entry hall with a satisfied grin. The carpet was red, deep deep red. No. Not red. Dyed red. Dark with blood, and heavy with the stench of death.

He set her on a large, overstuffed couch before taking a seat himself. She was limp like a doll as he fidgeted, and she could hear a noise to her left. A rasping whimper almost the noise of an animal in pain? She could not tell. _Old Death _seemed discontent with just sitting however, standing to pace- _stalk _back and forth like a lion. Anger still present in the lines of his emaciated form. And still the stench of fear was there, _old fear_ seeped from the furniture mixing with the scent of _new fear_ he permeated. All this wrapped around a tantalizing something she could not identify...

Time passed slowly, dark night ticking away as she sat limp on the too hard surface. The heavy sound of boots hitting stone echoed in the night, oddly loud after the faint sounds of his pacing stride and nothing else. _Old Death _paused before standing strait, and the scream of a door being ripped off its edges soon followed.

_Power and Blood _filled the room like a warm breeze entering the room, making _Old Death _pause for a brief moment even as red eyes met red. And for the briefest moment, Faith swore the bottomless red gaze was directed at her for a moment before turning back to the man standing between them. An ugly snarl came from _Old Death, _and he moved to block the others view.

"_Leave _fool. That one is _mine._" The sandy blond haired male said, arms raised and claws extended.

"How troublesome." _Power and Blood_ said, voice hissing. "I came here expecting a master. Instead I get some troubled lesser. A lesser that does not even know how to value the little strength that gives him hold on another."

"You will not address my bride in any fashion- She is _Mine._" He said this time, voice going high and strange. He snapped his fingers as if he were some sort of magician, and Faith found herself standing against her will. "No; you will not very shortly cease to be."

"You are a fool," _Power and Blood _said, "And this one will pay the price for your foolishness."

"_You _will pay." And suddenly her body surged forward, like a puppet on strings slashing at the red dressed man with her knife. He stepped out of the way so quickly that she didn't even know he was gone. Her body stopping only when something seized her long hair in a tight grip, before a mighty tug was given.

Her body pitched over backwards, and the grip on her hair soon came up to grip the back of her head. Another large hand rested at the base of her abdomen, exposing her neck in a very distressing way as she fought both the hold on her mind, and the hold on her body. She didn't want to be here.

This was bad for her, very, very bad. She was going to die. He was going to consume her, and she would be withered and nothing. Dust and dead for eternity. A truth that she knew from deep within her bones.

She felt soft lips on the sensitive skin of her neck and for a brief moment, butterflies fluttered in her stomach before sharp teeth dug into her jugular. Slicing into the artery with the efficiency of a razor, a noise left her throat then, a pained keening.

She could feel the warmth in her veins leave her, and Faith was powerless to stop it. Another breathless moment passed, and she found herself laid out gently on the floor. She was weak, too weak to move. Almost too weak to breath and her weak erratic heartbeats seemed to be the only noise in the dark night.

There was the sound of movement, far afar above her it seemed. But each moment was weighed by the beat of a weakened pulse. A pulse that seemed to beat like the engine of a great ship, desperately fighting to maintain a system that was rapidly losing the precious fluid keeping it alive.

* * *

A/N: I know. I'm a bad person. But I swear absolutely swear that the next chapter will wrap things up. I would have finished it in this one but. Ugh finals.


	8. Chapter 8: Night

A/N: I know. I'm a bad person. But I swear absolutely swear that the next chapter will wrap things up. I would have finished it in this one but. Ugh finals.

**Summary: **Vampires, the scourge of the night and the thing of nightmares. But not all monsters started out as something entirely inhuman. OC-centric, with a twinge of Alucard and Integra. Just a little introduction of my character to the realm of Hellsing. Most definitely AU.

**Rating: T **For gore/blood, ghoul and/or Zombie funliness.

**Disclaimer: **I do not, nor have I ever owned Hellsing. But god do I ever wish? Sorry, just had the mental image of me on a beach with Young-Walter or something.

* * *

**Keeping Faith**

**Chapter : **_**Night**_

_By: Tamuril Telrunye A.K.A Bamvivirie_

* * *

'_Sleep my love as the trees above, protect you from the dark…' _echoed in her head, a lullaby from long before she could hope to remember; the beat of her heart, weak and fading- Fading to night and nothingness.

Her thoughts were disjointed.

_Long blonde hair over sun-darkened skin, glasses over a guarded expression. A woman, familiar but unknown. Children. So many small children dancing around her, laughing and singing as she twirled them about one by one. Familiarity, faith, and the keen ache of belonging that seemed to fill her as she danced with happiness._

The dark dim echoing of the night contrasted with fractured memories, both fighting for dominance in her mind even as a large figure clothed in red moved to stand above her. His red, red eyes stared into hers and for a brief moment something within them seemed impossibly hard and calculating, before he stooped one hand pressing against wounded throat.

"Such a little thing."

And Faith could not reply. A deep menacing growl filled the still night air around them, and _Power and Blood _looked up. His body tensed like a great jungle cat, ready to attack or be attacked in turn. The other presence the foul corrupt thing that it was, seemed to be no more; But in its stead was the deep possessive growling that Faith recognized.

Her Hound.

He hadn't left her after all, it seemed.

"Calm yourself beast." _Power and Blood _said, "I'll harm this childe no more, she has suffered enough under the ministrations of that… Pathetic fool."

The growl seemed to deepen, and red eyes narrowed.

"Growl all you wish fell beast. But we both know that you've _failed._" He said with particular malic. "She is dying already, not just dead. But dying again. And this death will be final. You know what I intend. It is her choice. And I would ask less of her than any other master could."

A long moment passed as the beast crept into being, from deep growls to depths in the shadows, his dark for slunk forward. A wet nose pressed against her temple as six glowing eye peered at her. She had almost grown use to the strangeness of the beast, and his presence offered her comfort she been lacking. Perhaps dying wouldn't be so bad after all?

A growl interrupted that thought, and she smiled somewhat apologetically at the beast.

"You may not die," _Power and Blood _said, an air of gravity surrounding his statement. "But neither will you live. You've already forgone that privilege for this existence. Damned though it may be. You have chosen to become a damned thing, no different from this beast. Die now and achieve nothing. Or exist further, as a tool- but a respected one."

_"One drop." _Said the Hound, growl lowering.

She had no idea what to say to this, if she could indeed even say it. Not human… It made sense that she was not human, she could embrace this. It was almost as easy as breathing. How odd that Not being something might be easier than being that thing to begin with. She was not human…

She scarcely had time to consider, he was keeping what life she had left in her by the pressure of his fingers alone. What did this creature offer her? If she was no longer human, how could he offer her anything worse?

Faith hadn't realized she accepted, until the man lifted his hand to his lips. Nipping the tip of his finger he drew blood with unnaturally sharp teeth, before lowering it to her lips.

"One drop." _Power and Blood_, said with a sigh.

* * *

_"One drop."_

Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing, sat patiently in her armchair as the night progressed. Situated as it was just behind the Hellsing unit van, its extravagant and plush surface looked more out of place even then its occupant. Which was truly hard to do, when one was wearing such an expensive suit in the middle of a forest road, surrounded by faithful bodyguards or not.

A gentle tapping could be heard, if one cared to listen and though it might be only a small noise hidden within the din of the reporting men and the static of radios, there was scarcely a man within range that wasn't on the edge of their seat because of it.

Sir Integra had been tapping that particular finger for approximately ten minutes, and would continue tapping said appendage until her _agent _reported into her. He was late. Again.

This did not worry Integra in the more traditional sense of the word; she had no concerns for his safety. He was a creature beyond most mortal woes. It was the Queen and Country that had her concerned. That man was always late. Unless he felt like being early, he was infallibly late.

And she had not one doubt in her mind that he was late because of his insatiable appetite for trouble. Curios as a cat, and less inclined to like you. It was a good thing that the man was bound to serve her, not that she wasn't sure he would have been serving her anyways. Such was their bond. Such was their fate.

She wasn't inclined to loath it; who could oppose the presence of an eternal guardian?

It was more the reason he was late that bothered her. Five or ten minutes was customary. Fifteen meant that he'd found a diversion. Thirty minutes however, meant that his quarry had either been more difficult to deal with than previously anticipated or that there had been another incident.

Hellsing existed to maintain a certain status quo. Creatures of the night would attack, and Hellsing would destroy them, protecting Queen and Country. And innocents were a part of that. There had been more the one occasion where residents or police forces had held off the zombie horde, waiting and hoping for a rescue.

But this was different. There should have been no civilians at this place, no police to save because none had been sent in. No. This had been a hotbed of local terrorists, and scientific mad men. Fools who had, in their haste acquired something that they should not have.

The corpse of a withered vampire was a dangerous thing to have, old and decrepit though it might have been. Vampires as it were, could sleep for centuries in this state if undisturbed. This one had only slept for one such age, and so was not quite as bad as some. But he had been a nasty sort when he was still flesh and mortality.

So his awakening had seemed to be a thing that would be more prudently avoided, if at all possible. The pale golden haired draculina Seras paced next to her, impatient but on guard. Despite reservations, the Police Girl had proven to be quiet be useful, and if Integra was being entirely honest- not a total waste of space, as Integra once feared.

She was good company, not that a member of the Hellsing family would admit such a thing. She was after all, a vampire. Not that her social circle had improved by much over the years. One vampire had turned to two, with Seras, then three when Millennium turned Walter in the attempt to set things in their favor.

Not that they ever realized that the old 'Angel of Death' would be capable of breaking their hold, and destroying them with the power they'd so dubiously bestowed upon him. A power he may never have had, due to his own ineligibility. Integra did not want to think about her butlers former sex knowing he'd had one, was something akin to thinking about how your parents brought you into being. Altogether, an unwelcome concept.

What was keeping the creature?

* * *

_"One drop."_

"DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!" Said the enraged voice of _Old Death _snarling half the words until they were almost unrecognizable.

"If you don't take care of you toys," _Power and Blood _said quietly pressing a fingertip to her lips. "They will be taken away."

The single warm drop slide between her lips touching her tongue with an almost electric jolt, and her body seized. She could feel herself coughing, but it was through a veil of emotion and sensation that clouded her senses.

"Now you will see" Said _Power and Blood_ "What it is to misuse the power that is given you."

Faith for a moment, felt like nothing more than a puddle of goo. But then reality as always, made itself prevalent. The dark crazed laughter of _Old Death_, cut through her momentary calm, and her hand moved to pick up the knife she'd dropped. I was laying a few steps from her now. It hadn't been when she'd gone in the seizing fit. This more than anything was a sign to her.

Stiff fingers grasped an all too familiar wooden handle at lightning speed, and then she was standing- spinning, launching herself that the man/thing that was _Old Death_. Striking. One hit. One kill.

Death between breath, even as she stood calmly behind him. The sound ashes hitting the floor, the only sound in the room.

Then a howl rang out- The deep bay of an otherworldly creature, a cry of victory, eerily project into the night.

* * *

A distinct tapping filled the air as a certain blond haired woman awaited her minions return, scowl firmly in place. She was now certain that the creature was playing a trick or two, even as a familiar shadow separated itself from the darkness then, walking with sure unhurried steps towards the unit as Integra glowered at the creature.

He held in his arms a bundle, the size of a large child or small adult she could not tell. Her left eyebrow found a place somewhere just beneath her hairline, before coming down to join its twin in a look that dared that man to have brought her what she was sure he'd brought her.

"You're late." Was all she had to say, as he came to stop just in front of her. She could not find it in herself to verbalize the displeasure she felt as her worst fears were confirmed. A girl, just out of adolescence it seemed. Full grown but small.

"There were complications Master."

"So it would seem." She shot back even as Seras came to peer around her, and for a moment the police girl looked stunned.

"Master?" Was all the younger blond had to say.

"They are not considered survivors if you turn them you realize?" Integra growled raising a hand to rub her temple.

"I did not turn this one."

"Then why pray tell, did you bring her to us? Another vampires get is no concern of ours."

"I did not turn her Master, but I never said she wasn't mine."

There was a long pause as Integra fought the urge to face palm.

"What then do you intend to do with her, foolish creature?"

"I think, I am keeping her." He said as he looked down at the little known Draculina.

_A flash of memory, corn flower blue eyes._

_ Familiarity. Happiness._

_ "I do not wish to associate with you. You are likely to eat me. And enjoy it." Twinkling with happiness, smiling face sun-darkened skin. _

_"Oh common! I would wait until you were dead first."_

_ "In the beginning, was the word. And the word was with god."_

A sense of deja-vu struck Faith then, as she looked into the icy-blue eyes of the Masters master. Long blonde hair over sun-darkened skin, glasses over a guarded expression. So similar.

Similar, but different.

The broken misshapen pieces of her past, forced together to fit into this new mold. It didn't matter that so much of the puzzle was missing, that the rest was twisted and forced into place. Faith didn't even care if she had the right pieces. This, _this_ felt good- no, right.

"Does it have a name then?" Asked the beautiful- terrible woman whom she'd accidentally mistake for a man… A very pretty man, but a man none the less.

"Faith." She replied quietly, and for a moment she believed her voice hadn't been quiet loud enough.

Until the woman laughed.

* * *

_To Her most Imperial Majesty_

_ In regards to the matter in the uppermost regions of Yorkshire I extend my assurances. The gentleman in charge of such matters has taken care of the problem at hand, disposing of it in good time. I have investigated the situation and find those charged with the crime not to my liking. There is entirely too much left to chance in that area, and all signs point to the involvement of trusted individuals on our end._

_ I am forced to suggest the inevitable. I intend to send out further inquiries, but at current moment am preoccupied with the sole 'survivor' of the events in question. The gentleman has decided to take the girl under his wing, and assures me of her use. Which leads me to ask this of you- would keeping this Child be more detrimental to our cause? I do not believe so, but it is not my decision to make._

_ Regardless, I send my salutations and only hope that your wisdom might guide us in these troubled times._

_ Sincerely_

_ Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing_

* * *

_ To Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing,_

_ Although I feel our trust is well placed in your hands Sir Hellsing, I believe I must caution against making a habit of taking in strays. Regardless of this, I shall pardon the Child and allow for her further existence as a member of Hellsing due to her standing record of service. I also feel that I indulge this matter on behalf of your entirely to charming monster- It is hard to say no to such a gentlemen._

_ As a matter of interest, I would remind you that the council will adjourn in some three weeks' time to discuss matters relevant to our cause. Please be reminded that His Eminence and Vatican Section Seven will be in attendance to discuss co-operational efforts. We look forward to the success of these talks on our behalf._

_ Her Imperial Majesty_

* * *

_Ending notes: While this bit is done I would like to admit that there is more to Faiths story than just this. I have a portion of it written, a bit before this and another bit for after. But I have yet to finish either. Should I post them, do you think? I have to update the poll on my page. Its been forever since I've done that._

_Also, sorry for the long delay between posts. _

_Eitherhoo, Catch you later_

_Tam_


End file.
